"Quotes Xia Zhang was very interested in the inn building," Lu Ke'er said, seeing the other party's reaction.

"I can't say I'm particularly interested..." Hua Mian replied with her fingers: "I just think the architecture of this inn seems familiar, as if I have seen it somewhere."

After hearing her words, Lu Ke'er smiled and said, "That's a coincidence. I also felt very familiar when I ate the fried skewers of Xia Zhangchu just now, as if they were made by the old man in my tribe."

Hearing her say this, Hua Mian was even more confused. This country was bound by the God of Heaven, and it was impossible for ordinary chefs to make fried foods that consumed a lot of oil. When she was making fried chicken steak on Huajie, she was often killed by Sikong.

Yu Niandao, but he actually made fried food here far from the imperial city?

"Where is the old man who has made fried skewers now?" It would be fine if the people who built the inn had disappeared. It would be great if they could ask something from the person who has made fried skewers.

"I'm sorry, the old man passed away ten years ago," Lu Ke'er said a little apologetically, "And I have sorted out his relics before, but no recipe left behind."

After listening to her words, Hua Mian knew that the clues at the inn were basically broken, but he got a lot of information from the words he talked to her, which was already very good.

The two of them said a few more words, and Hua Mian went to Sikong Yue's table. Seeing Hua Mian coming, Sikong Yue asked her to sit down.

Logically speaking, it is absolutely impossible to have a meal with the general of Zhenbei as a chef. However, when Ye Huang and Sikong Xiao were used to it in the Hejing Palace, and they all knew Sikong Yue's temper, so no one went to get flowers.

Mian's identity tells things.

Sikong Yue is used to staying in the barracks and eats with his soldiers every day. Huamian knows nothing about the identity and status of this world. Even if you understand it, it will be difficult to change your previous habits for a while. Sikong Yue likes Huamian.

I don’t care about the rules set by the old men, so even on the way to the mission, I would ask Huamian to eat with her place.

The officials accompanying him were not without comments, but when they saw Sikong Yue looking straight over, his momentum was lowered a little. He often slipped away before he could finish his words, so he sat down here.

Seeing General Sikong called Xia Zhangshang's chair to eat at the same table, he couldn't say anything dissuaded.

After seeing this, several young doctors from the Imperial Hospital whispered to each other and guessed that the chef Xia Zhangzhang had any amazing background? He was whispering quietly, but was interrupted by Lord Cui's cough, "Don't talk when eating."

"What did you talk to the owner of the Lu Pavilion just now? He actually talked about it for so long."

Hua Mian sat down and heard Sikong Yue ask, "It's nothing, it's just that the owner of the restaurant Lu said that this fried skewers were similar to the dishes made by an old man who passed away here."

"What's so strange about this? You are from the perimeter of the inn. She is also an inn. They are all caravans that come and go from north to south. The recipes you learned from the chefs of the caravan are not similar to those of her here.

strangeness"

"Sister Yehua said," Hua Mian thought it was not surprising that the villages around the station were all made up for him. Who knows what the original village around him looked like? His recipes were serious.
Chapter completed!